A final word-picture, this time unrhymed, in which I have attempted to recapture via alliteration, onomatopoeia, and selected repetition the subtle beauty and sounds of the seashore experienced one evening alone with only the sands and waves for company, and the thought that perhaps there really is something more out there than merely our own mortality. Until the next time…
YESTERDAY NO LONGER - THE SEASHORE BY TWILIGHT
Over the slumbering shore I stroll, over the gently undulating seas of glistening sand, shining silver in the pale, overlapping light of the moon and stars. The violet sea flows gently up the silver layers of sandy shore, coated with white surf, billowing like featherdown. It makes no sudden, sharp movement as I walk between the grey, red, green, and yellow pebbles strewn over the seashore, speckled here and there with spiralled shells, almost as if it too were sleeping, the mauve and blue waves reflecting silver light that darts back and forth over their sparkling crests like living shadows cast down from the moon.
As I walk on, the sea stretches alongside, endless in its volume and capacity, rolling softly over silent shores like a blue fluid wind, billowing and ruffling, casting up airborne bubbles to spiral and cycle before bursting, their souls returning downwards to be reborn in the waters of the sea.
And as I look at the sea in this dark, silent evening, it seems as if another world lies beyond its shimmering boundaries, lying just behind the horizon, to which, one day, we shall all go, across the rolling waves of the ocean – leaving behind the silver sands, passing through the tranquil twilight, until we reach the very end of the ocean itself, and then at last we shall be there. We shall have left the world behind, our cares and our hopes and our dreams all forgotten, leaving the slumbering sea to caress the sleepy shores forever.
